


Late Nights

by orphan_account



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Cigarette mention, Drabble, Oneshot, didnt see any fics for these two, so i threw my hat in the ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:09:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27499213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Eret's museum is a good place to relax.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Eret, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 81





	Late Nights

The museum was lovely, Quackity could attest. High rise walls and large pillars, gleaming polished andesite floors, and a bright, ever burning fire causing the room to glow.

He almost felt out of place, with a ratty dress shirt and pullover sweatshirt. This museum felt like it should be filled with school children, or some prissy history majors, but it was just him.

He did belong, though. He was another relic of history, another thing that changed the status quo. His arrival on SMP grounds brought nothing but addiction and conflict. He supposed that’s what he tried to bring, to be quite honest. His first mission when he arrived was to form a gang, to incite some kind of response. It’s always been his goal to cause problems, it was his motive. To make someone see him.

He was unrelenting in his goal to make people notice him, to make them laugh. He never backed down, even when he had definitely done enough. The cartel was just an attempt to befriend Tommy, the election was to hang out with Wilbur, and the coalition was to spend time with Schlatt. He really could never back down, even when he’d done enough.

Quackity approached the Camper Van, feeling the warmth off the fire envelope. He climbed up the ladder, and stuck a cigarette into the flames. What could he say, Wilbur had him hooked.

Would Eret mind if he smoked in the museum? There was no roof, and the fire was already giving off smoke.

It didn’t matter, to be quite honest. Eret already didn’t want him in the museum. He couldn’t blame him, he agreed with him, in fact. He didn’t belong anywhere that was celebrating the history of this place, when he himself uprooted the history.

“Late night?” Quackity turned his head, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth with tense fingers. He coughed a bit, a habit he thought he’d gotten over, but it seems the shock brought it out in him.

Leaning against the van, Eret was there. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, instead taking to show off his own pure white eyes. Quackity was doing the same, although his were pure black.

“I guess. Don’t feel like going back to Pogtopia.” Quackity shrugged.

“Why’s that?” Eret said, sounding like he actually cared.

Quackity considered telling him the truth. Spilling that he couldn’t stand being around Wilbur, and that he knew Tubbo and Niki needed space. Maybe even saying that he felt like a burden, walking around there, asking for burn cream and food.

“I left my jacket here.” Was what he settled on. He knew it was a lie, and so did Eret, but they didn’t need to comment on it.

“Yeah, it must get cold down in the caverns.” Eret added, allowing Quackity to lie.

Quackity noticed that Eret wasn’t wearing his cloak. He wasn’t wearing the crown, either. He was wearing a plain green t-shirt.

“You aren’t wearing your crown.” Quackity noted.

“You aren’t wearing your suit.” Eret responded, spitting it out like a curse.

There was a second understanding between them, this would be another topic they wouldn’t discuss tonight.

“Do you want a smoke?” Quackity said, shuffling through pockets. Wilbur rolled his own, and gave a few to Quackity. He stuffed them in his pocket, only pulling them out when he needed to. This might have been a waste, but he felt like Eret needed one.

“I’ll pass. Where are you getting those?” Eret climbed the Camper Van, taking a seat next to Quackity.

“Wilbur. He gave me one during Niki’s birthday, after I talked him off of a bomb threat.” Quackity said. “Best anxiety medication available.”

“I think strength potions will give you a boost.”

“I’ll think about it.”

The two blank eyed traitors sat in silence. What could they say that the other would want to hear?

“I’m sorry.” Quackity conceded. “For fucking up L’manberg. I know how much you care about that place.”

“Thanks.” Eret said. He didn’t say it’s alright, or that it was no trouble, or even that he accepts the apology. But Quackity didn’t expect him to.


End file.
